


Lift me up

by silvercolour



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Did I Mention Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-MAG159, Scottish Safehouse Fic, Strong!Martin, and I will die on that hill, mentions of the Lonely, minor hiking-related injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvercolour/pseuds/silvercolour
Summary: Jon is already having a bad day when he falls and hurts himself while hiking. Martin carries him back home.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 26
Kudos: 220
Collections: Silver’s h/c fills





	Lift me up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TMA hurt/comfort week on Tumblr, for Wednesday’s prompt “overwhelmed”- before this fic grew out of control XD
> 
> All fills for this week will be posted to my tumblr (@silver-colour) as well as here on Ao3, to the collection this fic is also part of!

They must have been walking for hours– no, days even, Jon is sure of it. His feet feel more like two big blisters than limbs by now, every new step a torture of his own making. The end of their journey is nowhere in sight.

Perhaps they should never have left the safehouse. This journey certainly wasn’t worth it. Some ends cannot justify the means.

Why? Why had he agreed to go hiking with Martin? Martin’s way taller than he is, and has far more stamina, there’s no way Jon would ever have been able to keep up with him. He doesn’t even _like_ hiking, or seeing whatever silly cows or other creatures live in the area, and they can already see some amazing views from the safehouse– why would he possibly do this to himself?

Jon knows why he’s doing this. It’s the way Martin smiled when he talked about Scotland on the long, meandering, circumspect route they took from London. It’s the way Martin’s eyes light up when he comes back from the village, with talk of cows, or hawks, or new hiking trails discovered. It’s the flush on Martin’s face, and the pure joy he exudes, as though every new discovery, however small, is the best one yet.

Jon Knows this is in part thanks to, and in part the fault of, the Lonely.

Staying in that wretched place for any amount of time– it changes you. Jon could See the changes in himself, but they were slight, and Seeing them made it easier to recognize them for what they were. He can See the changes in Martin as well, and though he hates their cause, he cannot bring himself to point them out to Martin.

Because suffering under the Isolation and Loneliness, under that grey cloud of fog and despair that covers the world? It makes everything seem so much brighter when it is lifted. Martin was seeing the world anew, discovering it again, and Jon could not, would not take that joy away from Martin.

In short, Jon’s suffering today is Martin’s fault, for that morning Martin had smiled like the dawning sun outside the kitchen window, and asked if Jon would join him for a hike today, wasn’t the weather just perfect for it?

And Jon had said yes.

Just when Jon doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going, he sees Martin has stopped on the top of the hill that is his current torturer. He’s looking back towards Jon expectantly, and he’s _smiling_ again. Jon heaves a sigh as heavy as his legs feel, and starts forward once more.

Jon… cares for Martin. A lot. (Is ‘cares’ the right word? It certainly isn’t the wrong word, but it feels lacking, incomplete. Too small for the thing he feels. But it’s still true.) He would, and has, fought monsters for Martin. He has braved the Lonely for him. There are very few things he wouldn’t do for Martin, Jon feels. When desperate times call for desperate measures. This? This is not a desperate time. What this is, is high time to return home, to their warm, safe house. 

When he’s almost reached Martin he speaks up (despite the joyous, radiant smile Martin still wears, excited to be here, and to be here with Jon): “Martin, I’m sorry, I really don’t think I can walk any further, my feet are already killing me–“ He is interrupted by Martin laughing at him, as though he’s said something funny.

“I am not joking, Martin!” Jon bursts out, offended. His feet might not actually have any murderous intentions, but that doesn’t mean he can walk much longer. He is already dreading the long walk back, but at least that will be mostly downhill. 

“If you want me to not fall downhill instead of walking there we have to go back. I’m sorry, I know you were very excited to go hiking but–“

“Jon,” Martin interrupts him gently. “Jon, we’ve reached the viewpoint. We’re here.”

“Oh,” is all Jon can say as he, too, reaches the top of the hill, and the view opens up. 

Beyond the viewpoint is a sheer drop, lichen-painted cliffs reaching down to the highlands below. Ahead and further out he can see several valleys, river-traced and forest-covered. Overhead the rushing clouds are chased by the winds that have been pulling at them all morning. The same winds have been tearing at the autumn-glow of leaves in the valleys below, and carry the red-yellow-golds with them like treasures.

“Oh,” he says again, because this? This might have been worth it.

* * *

He changes his mind on the way down. Yes, the view was magnificent, and yes, the viewpoint was the perfect place to eat the lunch they lugged all the way up that bloody mountain. 

Specifically, Jon changes his mind when a loose rock slips from its place underneath his foot, and he slides downhill several feet before stopping abruptly against a large boulder, gravel scratching open his palm on the way and ankle twisting entirely the wrong direction upon impact. 

For the few moments it takes Martin to scramble down after him he can only stare ahead. This might as well happen. It’s not like his feet and legs didn’t hurt from the stupidly long hike uphill. Now the ankles connecting them have given out as well. He vaguely wonders which limb will give out next. 

“Jon! Jon, are you alright?” Martin is there, all soft hands and caring eyes and worried lines on his face.

“No, Martin, I’m not alright.” Jon meant to be angry, but he only sounds tired. “I think I twisted my ankle…”

“Oh gosh, okay, are you hurt anywhere else?” Martin asks as he shucks his backpack and begins digging around in it.

Jon takes stock– legs and feet, no worse than before the fall, ankle very painful, pride a little bruised, and the palm of his left hand is scratched up from trying to catch himself while falling. He tells Martin so.

Martin huffs a small laugh as he pulls a first-aid kit from his bag. “Alright, those I can treat. I’m going to take off your shoe, sorry if I jostle your ankle a bit. I need to bandage it, you know, keep pressure on it?” He shrugs, apologetic, and hands Jon something plastic-wrapped. 

“Here, these are antiseptic wipes. Clean your hand while I fix your ankle. That way it can bleed clean for a bit first, then I’ll bandage it after I’ve done your ankle.” Jon nods and uses his teeth to tear open the package of antiseptic wipes– they sting fiercely when he uses them, but it’s an almost-welcome distraction from the throbbing pain in his ankle as Martin bandages it. 

The pressure of the bandage helps a little, but the pain still throbs up his leg as Martin bandages his hand next. Held in Martin’s uninjured hands Jon’s own hand looks fragile and old– a matching set with the scars still burned into his right hand, Jon supposes.

“There, all done,” Martin states. “Do you think you can stand, or do you want to rest a bit first?”

The answer to that question is no, Jon does not think he can stand. However, all he wants right now is to be back at the safe house, so he nods.

Martin helps him stand, and Jon braces a hand against the boulder that broke his fall for balance. Then Martin lets go of his arm, and his ankle tries to fold in protest at the instant blaze of pain, and he falls back down with a cry.

“Damnit! I-,” a sigh. “I don’t think I can walk, Martin. Not even after resting.” He closes his eyes against the pain, and so he doesn’t have to see the worry on Martin’s face (fear, he Knows it’s Fear, can feel it at the edge of his senses).

“If you hike down–“

“I’m not leaving you here, Jon!” Martin yells, outraged at the very thought. “It’s too cold up here, and who knows what kind of wildlife lives nearby; it’s not safe.”

“Martin, the most dangerous wildlife in the area is the cows we saw on the way up. Trust me, I Know.” He opens his eyes to smile at Martin. “Now, you need to walk down– please, let me finish talking,” Jon interrupts himself before Martin can do it. “You need to walk down only as far as it takes to get a cellphone signal, call for aid, and then come back to me. That’s the best thing to do, you know that.”

“Jon…,” worry still etches Martin’s face.

“It’ll be light for hours yet, we’ve got time. Besides, you’ll be faster than we were this morning, I know I’m not exactly the fastest hiker”

Yet something about what he says changes Martin’s mind. His face sets in determination. “No, we’re not doing that.”

“Martin, please–“

“No, Jon. You walked into the Lonely to get me back. I can walk us both down this stupid mountain.”

Jon is silent for a moment, awed. There’s no way that’s going to work, of course, but Martin’s zeal is touching beyond words. “That’s hardly the same thing, Martin. And what are you proposing to do, carry me down?” He means it as a joke more than anything else, so he is stunned when Martin nods and starts taking off his backpack.

“Martin, you can’t possibly- what if you fall too? We’ll both get stranded here!”

“I can do it,” and Martin sounds so calmly self-assured that Jon finds himself believing him. “But if it’ll stop you worrying, I promise I’ll stop if I think it isn’t safe for me to walk like that?”

He waits for Jon’s hesitant nod, then puts his backpack on the wrong way, the pack resting against his stomach. Next he helps Jon up to lean against the boulder. Then he kneels, his back to Jon, and Jon has to take a moment to breathe.

The absolute trust Martin puts in him, the care (love, even? Love feels like the right word, Jon thinks), he gives it all so casually, as though it was nothing; as though Jon is worth all that, and more. 

It’s not just today, either. It’s been there all along: running away with Jon, leaving their lives (their mess) behind in London, in leaving the Lonely when Jon asked– and long before that, long before Jon himself even recognized it. Because you do not enter the Lonely to save just anyone, and you do not leave the Lonely except for something, or someone you love very dearly.

All that, all their actions and their choices have brought them here, today. Here, halfway down a mountain. Here, where Martin is prepared to carry– physically, honest-to-God, _carry_ Jon down a mountain. It’s shocking, and awe-inspiring, and what’s more, Jon realises he would do the same and more for Martin, if needed.

Thoughts still swirling, Jon swings his arms around Martin’s broad shoulders, and Martin grabs hold of his legs, and they travel down the mountain like that.

The going is slow, and the stop twice for Martin to rest, and for Martin to check Jon’s bandages, but they make it down without further injuries.

* * *

That evening they sit on the sagging couch by the fire in the small living room. Martin has made a pot of tea large enough to last them the evening, and has put both his legs up on the coffee table. They are joined by Jon’s injured leg, which is intermittently freezing under a cold compress and heating back up in the light of the fire, before being cooled again.

They’ve been reading for a while, but the words of the silly detective novel he’s trying to read don’t seem to stick in Jon’s mind. (It doesn’t help that he Knows the twist, that the murderer is in fact the victim’s twin brother.) He’s been trying to read the same page for what feels like an hour now. Instead of the words on the page, what’s on his mind is the feeling of his arms around Martin’s shoulders, the feeling of Martin’s hands on his legs, and Martin’s back against his chest.

He snaps his book closed. The sound disturbs Martin from his own book.

“Jon? Everything alright? Can I get you anything?”

There it is again, Martin’s infinite ability to care (love). He’s allowed to be selfish this once while he’s injured, and they’re away from everything, to make use of Martin’s kindness, Jon supposes (wishes it, needs it desperately).

“I’m alright Martin. I just need you to stay where you are for a moment.” Just this once, of course, Jon silently promises both Martin and himself. Today is already weird, anyway. Things can be normal again tomorrow.

He gently lifts his leg off the table, and scoots over to Martin’s side of the old couch. Once there he puts his leg on the table again, so that it presses close to Martin’s. Then he swings his arms around Martin’s neck once more, just like earlier. Suddenly he also feels the need to hide his face in the crook of Martin’s neck. It’s a little awkward, but the closeness is absolutely worth it. 

“Ah, hang on, let me,” Martin says quietly. Somehow the atmosphere in the firelit room has changed, and Martin seems reluctant to break the silence. He sits up a bit and wraps Jon’s arm around his chest instead, slings his own arm across Jon’s shoulders, and rests his head on top of Jon’s.

They stay like that for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Eldritch healing? Yep, still exists, but it’s not instant. Jon will be fine soon- and Martin will be there to help him. Be careful when hiking kids!
> 
> My other fills for this week:
> 
> [DAY 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067358) jonmartin Shaky hands/Holding hands  
> [DAY 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099584) the Admiral improves Jon’s bad day  
> [DAY 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142172/chapters/63601369) Vampire!Jon, touch-starved, hugs (chapter 1 of 2)  
> [DAY 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164330) Martin has nightmares, but Jon is there with hugs  
> [DAY 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179093) Jonmartin, fluffy marriage proposal  
> [DAY 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196100) MAG160, told from Martin's POV
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked this fic- I absolutely LOVE hearing from you!


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